Cunning (Infidelity #2) (40 page)

Read Cunning (Infidelity #2) Online

Authors: Aleatha Romig

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

The waiter took our plates and we stared for what seemed like hours. Finally, she spoke.

“May I take you to Columbia? Patrick said he’ll meet us later.”

I nodded. There were so many more things I needed to tell her and things I needed to sort out. “First, please answer my question about Del Mar. Who told you about that resort? Did you make the reservations or did that dreadf—or did Chelsea?”

Alexandria stood. “I did, Mother. I think I was looking at a few different places. It may have been Natalie from Hamilton and Porter who mentioned Del Mar.”

“You were speaking to Natalie?”

“Yes, I was coordinating the withdrawal of funds from my trust fund. After she mentioned it, I looked it up. It was lovely so I made the reservations.”

“Why that week?”

Alexandria shrugged as she reached for her handbag. “As I recall, Natalie mentioned that the resort was normally booked far in advance, but she’d been recently looking and knew that they had some openings that week. It was too good of a deal to pass up.”

It finally made sense. After all these years Alton wanted Alexandria to fail, wanted our agreement to fail. That’s why he didn’t fight me about her going away to Stanford. If she didn’t marry Bryce, he’d get it all. He’d claim it was me that failed, but it was his plan all along. He’d gained the social status, and now the company and manor would be sold. The proceeds would go to Fitzgerald Investments. He’d walk away with everything, and Alexandria and I would be left with nothing.

My hands trembled at the revelation.

He’d used me to gain his status. In less than eighteen months, he could throw me away. Bryce wouldn’t have the Montague name, but Alton would allow him every luxury resulting from his coup d’état.

“Mother,” Alexandria asked, “are you not feeling well?”

I needed to think, to plan. I needed Alexandria and Bryce to marry. Alton couldn’t win. He’d taken too much. I stood, looking down at the table, focusing.

“Dear, what about the check?”

She looped her elbow through mine and began walking toward the entrance. “The man you don’t want to meet took care of it. We’ll be going to Columbia in my car.”

“Your car? I don’t understand.”

“I know you don’t. Maybe someday you’ll want to.”

 

 

 

IT WAS HARD
to believe this was my normal. Over a month had passed since my mother was in the city. I spoke to her on and off, but her pleas for my return to Savannah were getting old and her reasoning becoming more farfetched. I’d completely blocked Bryce’s calls. He told Mother that Nox made me do it. That wasn’t the truth. I did it because I wanted to. Now, Adelaide was his messenger, relaying his accusations as well as his plight.

He’d been called to Evanston for his deposition. Mother said the Montague attorneys were happy with the results, but the girl was still missing. If she wasn’t found, there was the possibility of additional charges. Mother emphasized Bryce’s innocence, her concern that I was in a dangerous position, and how much I was needed in Savannah. She needed me, Montague needed me, and Bryce needed me.

I didn’t need him, her, or Montague. As each day and night passed and Nox and I got to know one another better, her words lost their impact.

I was happy.

Such a simple statement that a month ago I feared I’d never be able to say.

Today was my first day of classes, and I was there. Not only was I there, I was there with support unlike any I’d ever known. It started during orientation. On the Saturday morning following that first week, I went running with Patrick in Central Park. Thankfully, Jerrod was a fitness guy and didn’t mind running or keeping his distance. Having a security detail was becoming second nature. It was one of Nox’s hard limits. Arguing it would be a fight I wouldn’t win. Besides, ever since Chelsea’s attack, I decided it wasn’t a bad idea. Jerrod didn’t talk as much as Isaac, but he was nice and non-intrusive.

That Saturday and every one since, my cousin was as animated as always. I didn’t tell him that I was out of Infidelity. I suspected that to him it would feel like I cheated the system or something. He and Cy were good, and both were pleased that I was content. I did tell him that Nox and I had a past—a one-week past. I laughed at his response.

“One week to one year, little cousin, that’s pretty cool.”

He was right—it was. Except the one-year part was still under negotiation. Daily, weekly, monthly, the way real life and real relationships worked.

When I returned to the apartment early that afternoon, I found Nox waiting, looking amazing in his gym shorts and Boston t-shirt. He was smiling at me like the cat that had just eaten the canary.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“Me? Why do you presume it’s me?”

I narrowed my gaze. “Because I do?” My answer came out more as a question.

“I know you said the dining room table would be fine for your studies, but you see, I’m slightly OCD.”

I laughed. “I’ve noticed, but with you I think the
c
stands for control, and I also think you need to reevaluate the degree.”

He shrugged and swatted my behind. “Guilty as charged.”

“Ouch,” I said playfully. The way his blue eyes shone with his characteristic menacing grin made my insides pinch. “Now tell me what you did.”

“I’d rather show you.”

“I like the sound of that,” I said with a grin as he tugged my hand toward the bedroom. “But I just ran and I’m a little…”

My words trailed away as my feet stopped. Instead of entering the master bedroom, he took me to the smaller one. The bed that had been there that morning was gone, as was all of the bedroom furniture. In its place was a large glass desk, situated for optimal gazing at the city below. On the desk was a new computer, the screen as large as the one Nox had in his office. Along the wall, where the dresser used to be, were bookshelves—along the
entire
wall. I ran my hand along the woodwork beautifully crafted to match the rest of the apartment.

“How?”

The shelves were partially filled with the books that arrived from Palo Alto, as well as all the ones I’d already picked up from Columbia, with plenty of room for more. In the corner was a beautiful plush chaise lounge. The large modern light hanging above made it the perfect spot for reading.

“I-I don’t know what to say.”

Nox wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close. “Say you won’t leave your school shit on the dining room table.”

I laughed, stretching to my tiptoes and giving him a kiss. “Thank you. But how did you get all of this done in a morning?”

“I may have talked to your cousin and arranged for you to stay out longer than you planned.”

“That’s why he insisted on coffee at Tom’s restaurant and seeing my apartment.”

“Stop saying that,” Nox reprimanded. “It’s Chelsea’s apartment.”

“You’re right. It is. And it’s all ready for her, too.”

“That’s good, because you’re staying put.”

I stepped away from his embrace and turned completely around. “I still can’t believe you did this.”

“I did it for me,” Nox insisted. “Remember, I’m the selfish bastard.”

“Oh, really, Mr. Demetri? How is this for you?”

He reached for my hand and pulled me toward the hallway. “Because now I have to sleep in your bedroom.”

“You do? There’s always the couch.”

That earned me another playful swat as well as a kiss.

That was over two weeks ago. Tonight, the Tuesday after Labor Day and after my first day of real classes, it was time to celebrate. While I’d been busy getting ready for school—there was a lot of reading expected even before the first day—Nox had been busy with his work. I didn’t know in detail all that he did or how it was related to our lunch with Senator Carroll. I didn’t ask.

After everything he’d done for me, I decided it was time I gave him what I owed him. It wasn’t so much that I
owed
him; I wanted to thank him.

I sent him a text a little before five o’clock.

Me: “SURVIVED FIRST DAY OF CLASSES. LET’S CELEBRATE?”

Nox: “
SOUNDS GOOD.”

Me:
“MEET ME AT 7?”

Nox:
“WHERE?”

Me:
“NOT TELLING.”

Nox:
“THAT MAKES IT HARD TO MEET YOU.”

Me:
“IT’S COVERED. ISAAC KNOWS.”

Nox:
“WHAT THE HELL? MY EMPLOYEE. HE LISTENS TO ME. MY RULES.”

I grinned.

Me:
“NOT ANYMORE. THE RULES HAVE CHANGED.”

Nox:
“WATCH IT. YOU’RE DANGEROUSLY CLOSE TO CROSSING A LINE.”

Me:
“AND IF I DO?”

Nox:
“PRINCESS, YOU DON’T WANT TO FIND OUT.”

Me:
“I THINK I DO. SEE YOU AT 7.”

 

Checking the time on my phone, I slipped it back in the handbag. Only a few more minutes and Nox would arrive. Isaac would be sure he made it to Mobar on time. This was the fantasy he’d told me about, the one in his note.

I intended to do everything in my power to make it come true. My mother was wrong. Some fantasies were real and so was fate.

Sitting at the bar, my hair flowed over my shoulders in silky waves of auburn, and my makeup was more than I wore during the day, but not over the top. I wasn’t wearing excessive eyeliner or glittering eye shadow. If tonight ended in a shower, it wouldn’t be because of my appearance.

As I glanced down at the beaded black dress I’d found what seemed like ages ago on the bed in the executive suite of the Mandarin hotel, I felt the pearl necklace around my neck. As appalled as I’d been at the idea of equating this choker to a collar, I no longer was. To me, it was like his note had read. To the world, a queen—a princess. Privately, whatever he wanted me to be. To the world, the necklace was chic and sexy. If privately it held other meaning, that was for us to know and enjoy. Though I’d crumpled his original note, if memory served me well, I’d followed Nox’s previous directions, almost to a T. The only thing I didn’t do was wear the shoes he’d bought; instead, I wore the Louboutin pumps from Del Mar. Their track record was too impressive not to include them in this night. Everything else he ordered was available. Besides my necklace and earrings, the dress and shoes were all I wore.

As he’d ordered, there were no other men around me. Jerrod’s presence assured that. With only a look, he kept the bar stool on either side of me empty. A lemon drop martini sat on the bar in front of me. Slowly, I fingered the rim. With each slide around the edge, I imagined Nox. In my mind, it wasn’t my finger on the glass, but his on me, teasing my nipples—the ones that were now as hard as pebbles beneath the dress. It was his taunting my swollen clit and plunging deep inside of me. Circle by circle, my breathing became shallower and my insides clenched in anticipation.

My handbag beside the martini glass vibrated, momentarily breaking my trance. I freed my phone and read the text.

Nox:
“YOU TAKE MY BREATH AWAY.”

Before I could move my head to find him, another message came through.

Nox:
“DON’T TURN AROUND.”

I shook my head, wondering again how he did that.

And another.

Nox:
“ENTICING AND RADIANT. I KNOW IF IT WEREN’T FOR JERROD, EVERY MAN IN THIS BAR WOULD BE HITTING ON YOU. THEY’RE LOOKING AT YOU. IT’S ONLY HIS PRESENCE KEEPING THEM AWAY. IT MAKES ME WANT TO PUNCH EVERY ONE OF THEM AND GIVE JERROD A RAISE, BUT MORE THAN THAT, I WANT TO SHOW EVERYONE THAT YOU’RE MINE.”

I gasped.

Me:
“I AM YOURS. YOU MARKED ME.”

As I waited for the next response, a warm hand caressed my bare shoulder. I didn’t turn. He hadn’t given me permission. I didn’t need to. His woodsy cologne combined with the possessiveness of his touch told me all I needed to know. My head to the side as his lips grazed my neck.

“I did,” he said, his deep voice rumbling through me like thunder. “You’re mine.”

“Yes, Nox.”

I stared at the sexiest man I knew as he eased onto the stool beside me. His gray suit coat accentuated his shoulders while the crisp white shirt glowed under the bar’s lights against the blue of his tie. My mind imagined other uses for his tie as his voice reverberated through the soft music playing in the background.

“How’s your martini?”

“I haven’t tasted it.”

With a knowing smirk, Nox picked up the glass and brought it to my lips. The cool liquid was both sweet and tart. It spread warmth over my tongue and down my throat. His other hand splayed across my knee.

“If I move my hand higher, what will I find?”

“Exactly what you ordered, Mr. Demetri.”

His grip didn’t move upward, but it tightened, the tips of his fingers blanching as they bit into the skin of my leg.

“I fucking wish we still had the suite here.”

“Does that mean you’re picking me up?”

“Oh, princess. I’m not picking you up. I’m keeping you.”

The bartender appeared. “Sir, may I get you a drink?”

I looked down and ran my finger along the rim of my glass as he ordered. When he was done, he asked, “Did you and Isaac make more plans, or is this it?”

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